Event Eleven.

[awashmods]

"Four ducks on a pond, A grass-bank beyond, A blue sky of spring, White clouds on the wing; What a little thing To remember for years -- To remember with tears!"

he day is normal. It's a bit chillier than it's been, the nip of fall in the air, but as the new people in the Town settle in... things have gotten peaceful. And yet. When everyone goes out to greet their neighbors, to hug their friends, to shake hands or make eye contact or who knows what -- they'll realize very, very quickly that nothing about today is normal at all, actually. Hopefully nobody minds a little extra sharing today. Welcome to Awash's eleventh event log, everyone! Further information on this event can be found here at the OOC post. You are welcome to start your own posts or logs for this event as well. If there are any questions, please ask them here. Thank you!

Comments

IIA

[troubadamsel]

[Maribelle had been out riding her horse to get it some exercise, so when she sees her fellow noble, she nods a hello.

... Then sees the memory, and is so startled she almost falls off.]

Oh! ... Oh. Oh, I see.

[Not the first time she's been forced into another's head, but, well.]

... I never thought I'd see nobility in a demon, but, my. You're more dignified than many humans.

[promissum]

[A proud and noble demon. Yes, he thinks he's done a very good job of this. After centuries he's only broken one promise. He's never lied to anyone, betrayed a comrade or anything of the sort.

It takes a moment before he breaks out of the memory.]

Hm... So you saw that as well, did you?

I'll take that as a compliment. I won't go back on my ideals.

[troubadamsel]

[She bows her head, apologetic.]

I am sorry, of course I didn't mean to pry.

[promissum]

[ He waves a hand, as if brushing the apology aside. ]

I don't mind sharing memories like that one. Though Fenrich would probably throw a fit.

My life is an open book.

[troubadamsel]

Still, to think that this place would take away our last refuge...

[She sighs.]

... I do wish everyone could hold your ideals, demon or no.

[promissum]

Memories, thoughts, feelings... It's a strange little town. I've never been anywhere like it.

[He looks just a little bit flustered when she says that.] I doubt everybody is ready to do something like that. Most demons don't follow any of my personal code.

[troubadamsel]

I doubt there's another place just like it in any realm.

[A nod-]

Not every human does either. So those that do, must be admired.

[promissum]

Yes. I believe that too. Humans like that are rare where I'm from.

What about you? Do you have a code of your own?

[troubadamsel]

... I suppose I've never given it a formal name. But I do believe that nobility is not made from the titles you own or from which House you hail. True nobility is made with your actions and seen with the heart.

[promissum]

[There's a low chuckle that sounds evil, but it's probably just his laugh.]

Good. It seems our definitions are compatible. There is nobility in the way someone acts, not just what or who they are.

[troubadamsel]

We must keep that in mind in this terrible place... for I fear that will be the true test of our ideals.

[promissum]

You believe this place will make us forget ourselves so completely?

[troubadamsel]

I believe it is possible. You haven't been here as long as I have, and... I'm afraid you've only seen the tip of the iceberg when it comes to our suffering here.

[A sigh, looking away.]

[promissum]

Unfortunately, I'm inexperienced to the ways of this town. I'd appreciate if you could fill me in.

[troubadamsel]

... Very well. The first time I felt truly... broken, was a few months ago. At first we were simply given strange birds - they appeared to reflect our personality, and were naturally red, blue or yellow. Mine was quite lovely. But as we went about our days, we would hear odd whispers. Yellows were told not to turn.

... Then, one day, suddenly, you couldn't see or hear anyone except your own colors. We all thought everyone else had vanished. It only got worse... I began hearing the voices of my loved ones behind me, begging me to turn back...

[promissum]

Hm... what a strange form of torture.

[Would he turn around if Fenrich was asking? Artina? Emizel? Probably. He could hold out longer for some of them than others, but the temptation... Unless he'd made a promise.]

What was the result of that?

[troubadamsel]

I heard the voice of my best friend, screaming for help... that's when I turned. In that moment, I was able to see everyone else again - but not who I wanted to see. It was just a harsh reminder of how little control we have. Many failed that test... we lost so much color as a result. It was a huge step-back.

As great as my grief was... it was nothing compared to the others. The Blues weren't allowed to eat, they nearly starved to death.

[promissum]

So this town was trying to test your resolve. Being reminded of your closest comrades, hearing them call for your help...

That's still difficult. You don't have to compare your suffering in terms of other people's. I likely would've turned if I heard Fenrich begging for help.

[Though he can't imagine the proud werewolf begging him to do anything except feast on human blood.]

[troubadamsel]

[She appreciates the sympathy, dude.]

... Unfortunately, our time here hasn't only been emotional and physical suffering. Do you know what a siren is?

[promissum]

Hm... The ones that sing to crash boats? I didn't spend most of my time around the ocean.

[troubadamsel]

Oh, they do much more than that. Their song lured many of us to the sea, where they captured and treat as livestock. The rest of us mounted a mission to rescue them... we succeeded, but not without costs.

[granted, death is just a pause button here, but still.]

[promissum]

People have died? What happens to them?

[He's cut off from the Netherworld, so it can't be that]

[troubadamsel]

Well... from what I've been made to understand... After a certain period of time... They come back to life, as if it never happened.

[promissum]

... As... their current selves?

[ Thanks, he hates it. ]

[troubadamsel]

Yes. Not as Prinnys or anything else. Just themselves.